Pro Bono
by jim1195
Summary: I didn't like the look of the place. That wasn't really saying a lot, though. I didn't like clubs, wasn't sure I liked Coruscant much anymore either. But I made a good living, so I put up with it...


**_Pro Bono_**

I didn't like the look of the place.

That wasn't really saying a lot, though. I didn't like clubs, wasn't sure I liked Coruscant much anymore either. But I made a good living, so I put up with it.

Maybe it was just that I wasn't used to being this high up in Galactic City. Most of my work was limited to the lower levels, fourteen-hundred and down, killing scum for scum or CSF, whoever was willing to pay.

Sometimes, people ask me how I do it, keep a clean conscious working for the kind of people I deal with. It's not all that hard, I only take jobs hunting down real _chakaar_; kingpins, drug pushers, enforcers, rapists, you know the type. Sure, there's been a few times when a contract turned out to be bogus, but I have a sense for these things. I know when someone deserves what they got coming, and anyone who tries to pull one over on me gets exactly that.

Tonight isn't about any crime lord, and it definitely isn't about money. No, tonight's Pro Bono.

This had all started a few days ago, in a bar, where all good stories start. You see, I'd just turned in a low-level spice dealer CSF was looking to take alive so they could flip him. Now, _alive_ isn't normally my style, but I knew the crew, and he wasn't really a bad kid, so I did him and Security a favor by dragging him in scared.

The sergeant on duty at the time, a friend of mine, was at the end of his shift so he invited me out for a drink to thank me, since the bounty for the dealer was pretty pitiful. Long story short, he gets to talking about a domestic disturbance call he'd gone on a few days earlier in a more upscale part of the city. Seems the little _osik_'s daddy was some banker with enough connections that CSF couldn't lay a hand on the kid even after he'd beat his girl half to death. Classic story, girlfriend too battered to leave the scumbag even though she had to know he wasn't going to change, and the rich pretty-boy who wasn't going to let go of one of his "toys" as long as he still had use for it.

So, Security can't touch the kid on account of the higher ups not wanting them going after anyone above a certain tax bracket, and the bodyguards he's got to protect him from everything else mean nothing short of a force of nature was going to remove him from that poor girl's life.

Lucky for her I had a slot open on my dance card.

My sergeant friend didn't have much for me except for a name and address, but I didn't have to ask around the neighborhood long to find out where the little sociopath drinks. That's probably what I hate most about these Core World kids, they always drank in places like this; loud, crowded, dark. What ever happened to neighborhood cantinas?

Bouncer confirms my guy is in tonight, meathead doesn't get paid enough to make me ask twice. _Beskar_ tends to have that effect on people.

I find the Kid almost immediately, surrounded by a half-dozen slabs of meat and a few women, none of whom match the description I have of the girlfriend. Bodyguards are the all-muscle-no-brains type these rich idiots always want, but they aren't braindead, so they make me pretty quick.

They'd keep an eye on me for a while, just to make sure I wasn't going to cause trouble. Normally, this wouldn't be an issue, but I'm not trying to let this turn into a bloodbath, so I have to find something to kill time. Alcohol's alcohol no matter where it comes from, so I head for the bar.

The disadvantage of the armor, of course, is that you're never going to be inconspicuous. A _buy'ce_ turns heads anywhere but Keldabe.

Could have been worse, wouldn't be the first time I'd run into a familiar face I wasn't looking for while out on a hunt. They probably didn't even know I'd noticed them, not when they were still being so damned obvious. My _buy'ce_'s modded to give me a two-forty-degree field of view, took a bit of getting used to, but it lets me keep an eye on things without having to "look".

There were four of them, two humans, a Twi'lek, and a Rodian, all female and, judging by the humans, all in their mid-twenties. It was harder to be sure with the other two, Twi'leks always looked younger than they were, and I've never been able to tell with Rodians, but groups in places like this always seemed to be close in age, so it was a safe bet. It was pretty clear they'd been here a while before I showed up, just young and drunk enough to be more intrigued than afraid when a Mando walked into their club. Bet they didn't know I could hear them either.

"What are you having?" The bartender, a Duros, asks.

Doesn't look or sound as scared as he should be, maybe he thinks I'm just some poser wearing a durasteel knockoff. Wouldn't put it past some of these brain trusts.

"Ale." I say." Correllian. Bottle, not the tap."

"Want a straw to?" He responds, more sarcastic than he would've been if he knew what was good for him.

Normally, this wouldn't have bothered me much, might have even made me respect the man, but I'm working tonight…

I make a show of laying my right forearm down on the bar. The Duros looks down, and his eyes widen when he sees the gauntlet. There isn't any heavy artillery, not for this job, but there's still enough hardware to give a weapons scanner a nervous breakdown.

"Just bring the drink." I say, casually adjusting a meaningless dial on my line thrower.

That's the end of that conversation. Duros drops off the ale a minute later without comment, and I do another check to see how my quarry's doing. Goons are still watching me. Smarter than they looked, then. This was going to take a while.

I take off my _buy'ce_ and place it on the bar next to me, facing outward and set to passive scanning in case anyone gets any bright ideas. Ale wasn't going to do anyone any good, really, but I needed a reason to be here and I can fight buzzed almost as well as I can sober.

Glance back over at those girls at the end of the bar. There's only three now, but they're still gawking at me. Not talking anymore though, that's a bit odd. Come to think of it, where had the other one gone…

"Hey."

She's behind me, one of the humans, brunette, one point two meters. Must've come up from too far to the side for the sensor to pick up. Make a note of that for later.

"Hey." I say back.

This is new for me. Mando reputation excites a lot of Core World girls, or at least the idea of it does, but they never work up the courage to actually _approach_.

"Your friends dare you to come over here?" I ask.

"How'd you know?" She says, smart enough not to deny it.

I tap my ear.

"Mandos hear everything."

"Right." She says, laughing more out of embarrassment then humor. "I'm Lira, by the way."

"Kad."

As a general rule I try not to socialize while on the job, best to get in and out quick, let my actions speak for me. In this case, though, it might calm the goon squad down to think I'm here for… _recreation_.

"You come here often, Kad?" Lira says.

I raise an eyebrow.

"You sure that's the line you want to go with?"

She laughs nervously.

"Sorry. I don't normally do this."

"Walk up to dangerous looking strangers at a bar?"

"No!" She says. "Well, I don't do that either, but I was talking about clubbing."

I tilt my head towards her friends.

"They talk you into that too?"

"Friends from university." She explains. "They say I work too much."

I laugh.

"My friends say the same thing. What do you do?"

"I'm an accountant." She says. "For my father's law firm."

"Sounds exciting."

She rolls her eyes

"I'm sorry if we can't all be big, scary Mandalorian… bounty hunters?"

"Sometimes."

I look over Lira's head at the target. Muscle wasn't paying me much mind anymore, but I'm not so sure how much good that's going to do me. They'd proven slightly more attentive then the usual _di'kute_, and, in my experience, anyone who isn't completely incompetent is at the other end of the scale, either ex-law enforcement or military. Doesn't mean I can't take them, just means there'll be collateral damage if I don't catch them off guard. It'll be tricky to get close without being made. This always happens when I go in without good intel. If only…

"What are you looking at?" Lira asks.

She makes like she's about to turn around, so I grab her by the shoulder before she can.

"Don't." I insist. "I've been scoping out the goon squad in the back corner."

"You're working?"

"No. I'm dealing with this _mir'osik_ out of principle."

"What did he do?" She asks, concerned.

"Beats his girlfriend. Too rich for CSF to do anything about it."

"What are you going to do to him?"

There's a wicked glint in her eye when she says that. I'm starting to like this girl.

"I'll disable his security first," I explain. "hopefully without blaster fire. Then I'll hurt him bad enough that he won't even _think_ about that poor girl ever again."

"When?" Lira says.

"As soon as I figure out how to get close enough without them noticing me."

She laughs.

"You're going to have a hard time going unnoticed wearing that." She says, gesturing at my _buy'ce_.

"I know, that's why I haven't done it yet."

"What you need is a distraction." She says, smiling wryly, that wicked glint back in her eye. "Watch and learn, Mando boy."

She walks off into the crowd, I lose sight of her.

I don't see whatever it is she does, all I see is a fight break out between a Quarian and a Zabrak at the other end of the club. That seems to be enough to distract the goons away from any thought of me. I'm not in the habit of wasting an opportunity, so I grab my _buy'ce _and start towards my target. Fight's not likely to last long, Quarians are tough, but Zabrak were vicious as a rule.

Sensors pick up their sidearms once I'm within ten meters; three Merr-Sonns, two Blastechs, and a quaint but nasty looking pump-action Trandoshan number.

They're all shifting toward the side closest to the ongoing brawl, and that leaves me with a clear avenue of approach to come up from behind.

Stupid.

The first thing I do is pull a dart coated in a particularly nasty toxin off my belt. Launchers are already loaded though, so it stays in my hand, point stuck out between my fingers. I'm right about the fight not lasting long, but I'm right behind the target now, so it doesn't matter much.

_Hut'uun_ starts screaming as soon as I stick the dart in his neck, starts clawing at it the moment I pull my hand away. Too late now, in about fifteen seconds he'll really have something to scream about.

The girls that had been hanging on him bolt as soon as they see me. They're definitely smarter than the muscle.

First two to wheel on me already have their blasters drawn. They get what's loaded in the dart launchers, two projectiles packing enough voltage to drop a charging reek. Hope neither of them has a heart problem.

Third one's almost as quick as his buddies, but he's also a lot closer. Close enough to catch an armored fist to the jaw. The crunch my fist makes doesn't sound too good, the crack his head makes against the floor sounds a lot worse.

Four and Five are a bit trickier, or they would've been if Four didn't fumble his blaster on the draw. Five's the threat, he gets the line through the bicep, goes down when I start reeling it back in. Four's definitely either real new at this or a special kind of stupid, because he rushes me. I just let loose a squirt of unlit propellant from my flamethrower, let him slip in it. He lands flat on his back, I anchor the line stuck through Five into his shoulder for good measure.

Six has the Trando piece leveled on me by now, lets off a round into my chest as I step over Four and Five. Hurts like hell, probably bruises my chest, but my _beskar _holds and I'm on him before he can chamber another round, around the same time everyone within earshot starts to panic. That's not my problem though, I just grab Six's blaster by the twin barrels and jab a wrist mounted electrode into his chest. He goes down convulsing, I keep hold of his blaster.

Everything's quite now except for the kid's screaming. Blaster shots tend to shut places like this down, though in this case it just stops the music and turns up the lights long enough for security to "handle" the problem. Bouncer from the door is at the head of that pack, so they get one look at me and turn right back around.

I get the chance to admire my handiwork as I make my way back to the target around what's left of his bodyguards. There's quite a bit of blood, and none of these men are going anywhere without serious medical attention, but casual brutality has always been part of the job.

_Chakaar_'s still on the couch where I'd left him, and still screaming his head off. The injection I'd given him was a nasty insect venom from Dathomir, won't kill a humanoid, but causes an intense burning sensation most beings describe as equivalent to having their skin peeled off, slowly.

I sit down in front of him, knocking aside at least a half-dozen drinks, and level the Trando blaster on his stomach.

"You Kyle Veshik?"

He nods, too terrified now even to keep screaming.

I've always found it best to confirm identity after you've started hurting the target, even if your already sure who you're dealing with. If nothing else, it gives them the impression that you didn't already know, that what you've already done to them is what you're willing to do to the _wrong_ guy.

"Listen, _di'kut_," I say. "I know you're in a lot of pain right now, but I'm gonna need you to listen up. Your girlfriend, the one you beat within an inch of her life, you two are done, understand?"

He nods again, a bit more vigorously this time.

"Good. You're also going to give her your apartment, everything in it, and, let's say, fifty thousand creds, just to start making up for how much you've screwed up her life for however long she's known you. Then you're going to move somewhere far away, somewhere she won't be able to find you even if she wants to. Cause if you don't do what I just told you to do, or if you _ever_ so much as speak to her again, I'll find you, and I won't be so calm next time."

I stand up and walk back over to where Six is still unconscious and drooling all over himself. My chest is starting to hurt enough for me to be interested in the Trando blaster, so I take the holster and bandolier for the weapon, holster it, and clip the whole set onto my belt.

"I'm keeping this." I say to Veshik without turning back toward him. "You'll probably pass out from the pain before the medics get here, but you can tell him when you both wake up in the ER."

I swagger my way back toward the bar, and I have to admit I'm riding a bit high after that fight. It's not every day I take out six armed men without using a blaster. What club patrons are left after that blaster shot give me a wider birth than they did before, and most all of 'em won't even look straight at me. Well, all except on.

"That was… intense." Lira says when I find her standing next to my half-finished ale.

"Anyone who works for scum like that doesn't deserve any better."

"It's that black and white?" She asks.

"Not always." I say, taking off my _buy'ce_ and downing the rest of the ale. "How'd you manage that distraction?"

She smiles.

"It's not so tuff when you know what to look for." Lira says. "Those two were already at each other's throats, I just gave them a little push to help things along."

"How's an accountant get so good at reading people?"

"My father's a lawyer, remember?" She says. "He taught me one or two things about reading a room."

"All my _buir_ every taught me was how to kill a man with a piece of flimsi."

She takes that as a joke, I decide not to tell her it isn't.

"Listen," She says, looking a little nervous again. "Would you maybe want to get a drink sometime when you aren't knocking anybody's teeth in?"

"Sure." I say, smiling a bit wider than I intended.

"Great." She says, beaming back and handing me a folded piece of flimsi. "Here. Call me."

Lira walks back over to her friends, who'd impressively managed to stay put through this whole ordeal. They were… _impressed_ with her, to say the least.

It was best for me not to hang around here anymore. Medics were probably on their way by now, and, while club security wasn't brave enough to confront me, CSF would be a different story. Even if I had just done their job for them.

I leave a cred chip on the counter, enough to cover the ale and a generous tip to make up for the _commotion_ I'd caused. On my way out, I slip the piece of flimsi Lira had given me into a pouch on my belt.

I love my job.

**Author's Notes**

Wassup, internet? It's me, Jim, back again from my latest lengthy hiatus, if a little bit later than i had originally anticipated.

The more astute among you who follow my work will notice that the story you just read was originally published as part of the Part II preview for _Lives Well Lived_, which should have been removed by the time you read this because I'm getting ready to start putting out chapters for that as well, though on a different schedule than i had originally wanted to. What I'm trying to say here, for all of you who have grown tired of having to go about the drudgery of your daily lives without me for so long, is that you should probably be keeping an eye out this weekend for a couple of other things I have in the works, particularly the revised schedule for _LWL_.

Anyway, _Pro Bono_. Like i said before, this was a bit of an experiment for me born of reading a ridiculous number of Punisher comics in a short time. All things considered, i think it turned out very well, but I'd like to hear what you all think. Kad is a character I'd like to do more with in the future, especially if this first story ends up being received positively around here.

Now I'm going to cut this short because I'm actually insanely tired from the long hours I've been working since I came back to the civilian world and you're going to be hearing more from me pretty soon anyway. So, as always, follow or favorite if you enjoyed and feel free to leave a review or PM me to tell me what you think!


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